| It Figures |
[Nov. 7th, 2004|01:41 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  stressed | ] |
It figures that the month I decide to write a 50,000 word novel, all H-E-Double-Hockeysticks breaks out at work. I could work 80 hours a week and still not be caught up.
We're short two phone reps, so I'm having to fill in one day a week. Plus my recurring claims just dropped into my queue to file, along with 50 that are a new kind of recurring and I don't know how to do them. They were supposed to be done and out the door by Wednesday, because Wednesday, we are moving to our new office. Well, guess what? They won't be done, because on top of everything else, we have a problem with the reports that I balance every day. They usually take about 10 minutes to an hour to balance. This week, I spent one whole day on one of them, and half a day on another. I get new ones everyday, including weekends. I shudder to think what things will look like on Monday.
I went in to work for a couple of hours yesterday to pack everything up for the move. I did a few other little things as well, but it was like a drop in the bucket. I am beginning to think I will never, ever get caught up again, and as usual, the higher-ups just shrug and look away whenever these problems are mentioned to them.
But I really don't want to think about all of that right now. It's a beautiful day. I'm sitting here at Black Bear looking out at the clear blue sky. We even went to mass this morning which was very, very nice. Believe it or not, I'm even ahead of my Nanowrimo schedule by 4000+ words. I hit 14000 last night still going strong and had to force myself to stop to go to bed.
My feelings on Nanowrimo so far? Well, some of what I have written is terrible. I mean, absolutely awful. And it kills me not to be able to go back and edit. I have to keep telling myself there will be plenty of time for that later. But, overall, what I've written has actually been pretty good. The evil plot monkeys have not come and chased me off-track. Neither have my characters risen up in angry rebellion against me - yet.
Tomorrow will be the start of week two. Here's hoping all continues to go this well! :) |
|
|
| I came, I saw, I voted |
[Nov. 2nd, 2004|11:43 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  tired | ] |
I voted today.
And wrote another 2000 or so words.
Total of 7108 words written so far in Nanwrimo.
I should go to bed, but am watching election returns. |
|
|
| Nanowrimo Day One - Final Stats |
[Nov. 1st, 2004|10:23 pm] |
OK, I'm proud of myself.
Word goal for today: 5000
Total words written today: 5378 and I had to force myself to stop
Chapters: Two and a half
Other accomplishments today: 7 loads of laundry, washed, dried, folded, and put away; cooked breakfast, lunch, and dinner; watched Dr. Phil and Extreme Makeover Home edition special which, as usual, made me cry; spent quality time with Fox; spent quality time with God; Did not get overwhealmed and feel like giving up.
My story finally started to click around 4000 words or so. Before that I felt like I was just racing through prose to reach something interesting. I haven't gone back to read what I've written today, so I can't tell you if it's good bad or indifferent. But, I can say that what I wrote at 12am this morning was actually very good. I was well pleased.
Now I have 30 minutes of downtime before bed. Tomorrow is a big day. I'm going to work, and I'm going to vote. Which reminds me, I need to charge my PDA so I can write in line at the polls if I'm there forever and a day.
Wish me luck, and DONT FORGET TO VOTE!!! :) |
|
|
| Nanowrimo Day One - Procrastination |
[Nov. 1st, 2004|10:45 am] |
Rats. I had some great pictures from Raleigh but I didn't get them off of the camera and Fox took the camera to work. So, no pics today. Sorry.
I stayed up 'till 12am this morning to get a jump start on Nanowrimo. I had planned to write for at least an hour before hitting the sack, but the time change had me struggling to keep my eyes open. I managed 880 words in thirty minutes and then gave up for the night.
This morning I woke up shortly before nine, took a shower, ate breakfast and sorted laundry, watched a little news, and then sat down to start writing.
But first I had to pray. And then I had to listen to the Writer's Almanac. And then I had to go the http://www.nanowrimo.org to enter my rather sad 880 words into my writer's profile. And then I decided I needed to call Fox to request that he bring home enormous amounts of plain m&ms, only I keep getting the answering machine. I fed the dog her breakfast and now here I sit, wearing my pajamas and a grey sweater. All of my other clothes are dirty. It's nearly 11am. I need to write. (and so, I'm going to do that now!) |
|
|
| Am I insane? |
[Oct. 18th, 2004|10:36 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  crazy | ] |
OK Laura. Now you've done it. You've devised a way to drive your big sister over the edge. All of the writing types at Enloe are doing Nanowrimo, huh? Well, do you think that I'm going to let a bunch of high school peoples have all the fun? OH NO! I signed up last week for Nanowrimo, and it's already occupying a lot of time and effort. I mean, it's not everyday one decides to write a FIFTY-THOUSAND WORD novel in thirty days flat! November 1, 12:00am est, the insanity will begin. National Novel Writing Month (Nanowrimo) means that, taking four days off for THanksgiving, I'll have to write appoximately 2000 words (about 8 pgs double spaced) a day! The whole idea is quantity above quality. If you edit as you go, you won't make it. I've been outlining (the rules say you can outline all you want as long as you don't write any actual prose until November 1 12am), and a couple of days ago I did an experiment. I set my timer and started flat-out writing a sequel to my Fan Fic "First Call." I did not allow myself to hit the delete button. Whatever came to mind, I just typed. After 40 minutes I had 1500 words. Not bad, but I'm sure I won't be that fast every day, especially since my Nanowrimo novel is something I've been dreaming up for over a year now.
So. That's what's new in my world. T-minus two weeks and counting. Yeeha!
Oh, and a fun picture for today: Do you think it's true that dogs tend to resemble their owners? :)
 |
|
|
| The Mother of All Mondays |
[Oct. 11th, 2004|07:23 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  optimistic | ] |
Today was a Monday. It was one of those days when you think, "Why did I even get out of bed?" I arrived at work and started sorting reports in the mail room, just like I do every morning. Then Robin poked her head in and said, "Where is Wannell? She's gone. I mean gone. Her desk is cleared off." She looked close to tears. Behind her stood Renee sporting the sort of expression you see on the face of the girl in a particularly bad horror flick just before she gets the knife. Of course I didn't know any more than they did about why Wannell was gone, but when our supervisor came in and checked her mail, there was a letter of resignation. Yes, Wannell was gone. Robin Cried. Renee let out a particularly miserable-sounding screech. You see, Robin and Renee are "Phone People." Wannell was our "Lead phone person." And take it from me, a former Phone Person, that working customer service at a small-town hospital is no basket of roses. Phone People get yelled at, cussed at, threatened, and once a little old lady even sent me a dried out booger in a handkercheif. Phone People are always behind; never caught up; their phones are always, always ringing. Add to this the fact that Robin only works 4 days a week because of back pain and plans to be out for back surgery later this month. You've got two panicked Phone People on your hands.
We got the Phone People settled down as the buzz about Wannell leaving spread around the office like wildfire. I finished sorting reports and sat down to my computer only to find out that the wonderful claims that I love so much have not even bothered to drop into my queue. Something is very wrong with the computer. To make a long story short, I piddled around fixing errors on Blue E, working on the physical therapy claims that were already in my queue, and keying discharges until four-thirty this afternoon when the computer problem was finally fixed. Tomorrow should be fun.
There were many other minor irritants throughout the day of course. It was a Monday. But it wasn't all bad. I did good things today, like eating an apple instead of a candy bar this afternoon and ordering a medium french fry instead of a great biggie french fry at Wendy's today. I even shared my frosty with Fox. And, guess what? I chose to watch Dr. Phil tonight while working on my scrapbook, then turned OFF the TV before Oprah started, went to my writing room, and WROTE for AN HOUR! Yay me. I even got a little prayer time in. And finished a load of laundry. :) Besides, when a day ends with a sunset like the one above, it can't be all bad, right? |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Oct. 10th, 2004|07:52 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  good | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Native American Flute Music | ] |
I am sitting here looking at the picture I posted the other day – the one with me standing in front of Garrison Keillor. Looking back there are so many things I wish I could have said or done. What do you say to a man whose very voice brings you to a place where all is well with the world? There is not a time in my memory that I didn’t know that voice. With one phrase he brings me back to my childhood where I lay on the floor with a coloring book and crayons as I listened, rapt, to the News from Lake Wobegone. Everyone was always happy when Garrison Keillor was on the radio, even on bitter-cold Wisconsin nights when I was twelve and struggling to find myself in that mental roller-coaster of adolescence. His voice reached even to North Carolina when we moved. Mom would turn on A Prairie Home Companion and cook ginger chicken and fried rice, and we would sit down to dinner as a family. Through the turmoil of high school with all of its academic stress and crushes, I could tune in on Saturday nights, hear Garrison Keillor’s voice, and be comforted by the familiar names and places of Lake Wobegone. Then in college, and still today, Lake Wobegone lives on through that voice. Garrison Keillor’s voice.
Seeing him live was like finding out that Santa Claus is real. I still can’t get over the fact that I met him and spoke with him, that he asked about my writing and rummaged through my purse. He signed my /Cat You’d Better Come Home/ book as follows: “For Emily, an author herself. Garrison Keillor.”
“An author herself.” Regardless of being published or not, as long as I continue to write, I can read what he wrote and know that I am, indeed an author.
Today I cleaned off my desk and prepared space for writing. I found my first attempt at using The Marshall Plan for Novel Writing, and it is better than I remember. But it starts much later in my story than I want to start, so I will start afresh this week. My writing hour during the week, I’ve decided, will be either eight o’clock or nine o’clock in the evening, depending on what time I get home and whether I want to watch Oprah or Dr. Phil (It’ll be one or the other, not both, from now on).
So I feel some hope about my ambition to write. I want to focus on the process more than the goal at this point, the goal being to be published. And I think between the spiritual objects placed in my writing area, and the picture of me with Garrison Keillor, I have the proper inspiration to move onward with my novel, one page at a time. |
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
| |
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92.2){kind=small}
kemilyna's journal